


Poisoner's Morality

by icefallstears



Series: My Subconscious Likes to Horrify Pacifists [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Creepy, Gen, How Many Times Can I Say Creepy?, Implications of Pedophilia, Murder Lots of Murder, Things you write at 1 am, idfk, un-betaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:31:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3134591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icefallstears/pseuds/icefallstears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The Best Defense is a Good Offense" taken far to far by a not pacifist. Creepy. How many times can I say creepy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poisoner's Morality

She paused, thought for a second, and then coughed delicately.

“Perhaps I am not one to be asked complicated questions about morality. I have always been of the mind that ‘The best defense is a good offense’ and have been that way since I killed for the first time on my seventh birthday.”

The council goggled in disbelief. The youngest member leaned forward in rapt fascination.

“How does a seven year old kill?”

“Poison, and quite a bit of it at that. After all I did take out 31 people in one evening.”

The council looked disbelieving and once again the youngest took the verbal lead.

“Why would you want to kill 31 people and how did you know to use poison?”

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her booted feet.

“I was born to a whore in a brothel that catered to the nobility. The only reason that I wasn't terminated before birth was that my mother was very ambitious and hoped I would be a son. While, being a bastard, I would never inherit a title, depending on my birth order I had the possibility of obtaining a sizable fortune at my sire’s passing. But… only if I was a son. Being a daughter I was worthless except as a future whore.”

She smiled then, a quick flash of unsettling teeth.

“I was educated from birth in politics, academics, and the arts. Being rather advanced for my age I learned quickly and soon surpassed the education level of most of the other ‘girls’ working at the house. When I was nearly seven years of age the current madam of the house died of age. My mother was elevated into the position of house madam. She decided that there was no need to wait til I was of a normally acceptable age to begin my career when there were so many former clients of hers that would pay triple their normal fees for something… ‘novel.’”

She watched calmly as the members of the council showed mixed symptoms of rage, nausea, and pity.

“I was told that for my seventh birthday there would be a special party and several gentlemen would want to ‘pay their respects’ to me on that special day. Ten in all to be precise. I was worth a king’s ransom. As we have covered that I was ahead of my years and well acquainted with the working of the brothel by that age I knew exactly what would happen. I also knew that there were certain flowers in the garden that in small doses would end a pregnancy ere it began. However, in large doses it could kill anything from rats in the pantry to ‘girls’ that didn't get the dosage right. I waited for my birthday to come around and while the cooks in the kitchen attended the bread I put the flowers in the stew. It was tradition for the customers to dine together as a group with all the girls and the madam before settling into the night's pursuits.”

By this time most of the council members were scarcely breathing as they focused on her tale.

“To be fair, I wasn't intending to kill the cooks and maids; but they ate of the stew pot that night too. It did make it easier to leave though. I put on my warmest clothes and stole all the money in the house. I knew I’d never find a way to sell the jewels without danger but there was plenty of cash including the payments for my ‘party.’ I left and never looked back.”

She sat forward suddenly and spread her hands,

“I lived for a few years on the street until I was taken in by a kindly elderly lady who was lonely and needed help in her declining years. Still, it was not the last time I killed to protect myself and I have no doubt that I’ll kill again in the future. So, yes, I do not believe I am a good person to ask deep questions of morality. I am also grateful that I am far from being under your jurisdiction as I have no doubt that _your_ deep morality would convict me of murder.”

With that she stood and strode from the room before any of the council could call her back.


End file.
